


The Great Mall of Alrest

by yoshizora



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles 2
Genre: Modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:33:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25420183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yoshizora/pseuds/yoshizora
Summary: Jin loses his shit. Rex has to deal with an angry customer. Nia and Patroka try to rubberneck.It's just another average day, really.
Relationships: Brighid/Mòrag Ladair
Comments: 19
Kudos: 55





	The Great Mall of Alrest

**Author's Note:**

> shitposting on discord that escalated into this

**Indol Gold Crown Stationary**

Amalthus adjusts his collar out of habit, primly tugs at his tie, and neatly adjusts a display rack of postcards by the cash register. The store is always depressingly quiet after the lunch rush. It seems this type of business has officially passed that expiration date of _chic_ and _vintage_ to _plain obsolete_ — a damn shame, but that’s the nature of changing times… maybe he ought to expand with some religious paraphernalia. Knick knacks made in the image of the Architect always sell well enough… right? Enough to rack up enough business to keep his store afloat, right?

O, Architect, hear his pleas.

Haze has a spring to her step when she arrives for her shift, already in uniform. “Good afternoon, Mister Amalthus!”

“Ah, hello. Punctual as always, Miss Haze.”

“How are you?”

Just as he’s about to answer with a scripted response of _just fine, how are you, lovely weather we’re having,_ there’s a crash by the entrance. Haze sighs and covers her face with her hands, while Amalthus inches toward the clunky old phone stuck to the wall beside the fire extinguisher.

Jin stands there, seething, one arm thrust out to the side. A rotating display rack of postcards had been toppled. The cards scatter around his feet, bright pictures of cartoon dogs declaring puns about birthdays and bland flower photography for the sensitive middle-aged woman.

“ _Jin!_ We’ve already talked about this!”

“You are no slave,” Jin declares, completely ignoring Haze’s embarrassment. He strides forth and shoves over another display rack. “Be free now!”

And… there he goes, running through the store, pushing shelves over and throwing merchandise to the air. Popup cards that play cheery tunes land facedown. Envelopes that cost more than they reasonably should are trampled upon. A roll of stamps flies through the air. Some Christmas baubles that should have been put back into storage long ago roll all across the floor in every direction.

“I _told_ you, the job pays well and I get overtime! Torna didn’t go out of business because of Mister Amalthus, either! You’re thinking crazy thoughts again! Ohhh… I’m calling Lora to come pick you up!”

Meanwhile, Amalthus furiously punches the quick dial button, hissing to himself, “ _Where_ is the damn mall security!?”

**Gold Mouth Pretzels**

“Yeaaah… three pretzels. Two cinnamon, one plain. A large lemonade, too. Make it quick— I’ve got other places to be, pipsqueak.”

Rex tries not to flinch when the customer slaps down his credit card. This dude is… huge. And he’s wearing sunglasses inside for some reason. But, Rex would like to consider himself to be worldly wise for his age. A few years ago he would have been intimidated by someone like this man, clad in leather and wearing a sneer on his face, but he's been working here long enough to know to simply put on a smile and nod along. It's not so much as timeless wisdom, as it is survival instincts with a touch of common sense.

Besides, he can totally see how much hair gel this guy used to get that spiky peak.

He swipes the card. Stares at the little display. DECLINED.

The customer leans against the counter, drumming his fingers impatiently.

“Uh, sir,” Rex clears his throat, cursing puberty for making his voice crack. “There’s a problem with your card.”

“Swipe it again.”

DECLINED.

“Your card’s been declined.”

“Swipe it again!”

DECLINED.

“You little shit! What the hell are you playing at?!” The customer slams his palms down on the counter, and Rex immediately shuffles back. He lightly tosses the credit card back onto the counter, in the way one would hastily toss a piece of beef jerky to a frothing dog. “Whaddya mean _declined?!_ Gimme my damn pretzels! Two cinnamon, one plain! And a large lemonade! Goddamnit!”

“It’s not _my_ fault your card’s no good!” Rex blurts out, still backing off to get out of arm’s reach. “We take cash too, y’know!”

“Who the hell is your manager, brat?! I’M GONNA TALK TO YOUR MANAGER.”

“Hey, back off!”

“WHERE’S YOUR MANAGER.”

**Alba Cavanich**

If it were up to Brighid, she would have chosen a different location for their store. It’s not a bad location by any means— it’s at the heart of the mall, close to the second floor exits, and within the busy foot traffic of the food court but not _too_ close that the smell of hot dog water permeates into everything. All in all, it’s perfect.

Except for the fact that _Alba Cavanich_ is sandwiched between _Goth Topic_ and _Dahlia’s Secret._

Business is good, though. That’s the saving grace. Not that it particularly matters in the long run; this is just a little… side project that they took up out of restlessness and an uncharacteristic moment of boredom. Money is a seemingly infinite resource that Mòrag and Brighid both have access to, and Mòrag’s distaste for the ostentatious means that frivolous spending is never an issue between them. The store is a fun thing for them to share between themselves, and the wide selection of high-end clothing their store offers does placate Brighid as well.

Until their neighbors decide to saunter in. Dahlia, proud owner of a lascivious lingerie store she apparently decided to name after herself, and Vale and Azami, nearly identical in their aesthetic but so utterly different in personality, the perfect encapsulation of the quirky pop culture clothing and merchandise they work with.

“Are you ready to leave for lunch, Brighid?” Mòrag asks, blissfully oblivious to their presence… for now. She’s holding up her car keys. Neither of them have ever stepped foot in the food court before, and neither of them ever intend to.

“Yes… where’s Sheba? She’s supposed to have come in for her shift by now.”

Sheba would also be a fine distraction to keep those heathens occupied while Brighid escapes the mall with her wife. Unfortunately, while Sheba has the energy and enthusiasm for her job, she isn’t exactly the most reliable.

“ _Sixty thousand Gs for a shirt?!_ ” Vale’s loud observation of disbelief carries through the whole store. Some customers stare at her, while other customers discreetly move away to browse other displays. “Who would buy a shirt for this much? It’s so ugly, too. I don’t understand rich people at all…”

“Mòrag… Mòraaaaag… where are you…? We’ve come to visit you, hee hee hee…”

“Oh.” Mòrag blinks. “Perhaps I should say hello—“

“No, you don’t,” Brighid firmly says, herding Mòrag to the back exit before anyone can see them. Forget about waiting for Sheba, they’ll just have to hope that Praxis can hold the fort alone. But, inexplicably, because of course, Dahlia is waiting there, casually leaning against the wall.

“Well, howdy,” Dahlia winks, putting a finger to her lip. “Fancy meeting you two here.”

“This is our store,” Brighid flatly says.

“Speaking of which!” And then, to Brighid’s mild horror, Dahlia pulls some pieces of paper straight out of her cleavage with two fingers. “I wanted to offer y’all some special coupons for Dahlia’s Secret. _Special couples discount._ Of course, I do offer free consultations as well, if that may happen to strike your fancy…”

“How generous. Thank you.” Bless Mòrag’s heart, she actually takes the coupons without even flinching.

“Consultations for _what?_ ” Brighid, already exasperated, tries to brush past Dahlia. “Nevermind, we don’t need to know. Now if you’ll excuse us, we have a lunch reservation.”

“Have a nice meal, y’all!”

**Gold Mouth Pretzels**

“Oh my _god_ , we literally can’t leave you alone for one minute. This is why I voted to leave you at home!” Mythra ignores her brother’s furious raging and grabs him by one arm, trying to pull him away without much success. Pyra is already latching onto his other arm without even needing to be signaled, but their combined might still does nothing to budge Malos. Geez, the poor pretzel kid is practically cowering.

Strangely enough, he doesn’t seem very frightened. Just tired and annoyed.

“WHERE’S THE GODDAMN MANAGER.”

“Shut _up_ , people are staring! God, you’re so embarrassing!”

“M-Mythra, he’s trying to climb over the counter—“

“Pull harder, Pyra! Pull like your life depends on it!”

“I WANT MY FUCKING PRETZELS.”

Then, another pair of hands grabs him by the back of his stupid leather jacket. Alvis, always serene and unbothered no matter what kind of outrageous bullshit is going on right before his eyes, smiles and pulls.

Malos falls backward. He lands on his back— _thump_ , teeth gnashing in anger but too dazed to continue shouting. He pounds his fists on the ground and growls. For a long moment that feels like eternity, everyone simply stands there (lies there, in Malos’ case), as if they all need to process what had just happened. Then, Pyra tries to help Malos sit up while Mythra chews him out from hell to back.

“Sorry for the trouble,” Alvis says with an apologetic smile, sliding a generous fold of bills across the counter. “I hope this will compensate?”

The cashier sighs and rubs his neck. “Ahh, I’ve dealt with worse customers. ”

**Torigoth Tea**

It’s never a dull day at the mall, apparently. And when it is, at least Nia can make faces at Rex from across the galleria, since their kiosks are directly opposite from each other. But today, Rex is too occupied to have a weird-faces-contest with Nia, which is sort of a shame, because she’d been working very hard on making the most grotesque expressions just to crack him up.

Well, she does have the perfect vantage point to watch what happens. Some guy yells for the manager. Rex disappears behind the counter. Three more people arrive and forcibly yank the guy to the floor, there’s some more yelling, then they all trudge off without any pretzels. Rex’s shoulders visibly heave with the weariest sigh in the world once they’re gone; he shrugs to Nia when he notices her watching.

Nia flashes him a big grin and a peace sign.

Hardly a minute later, there’s some _very_ loud crashes and shouts coming from the second floor.

“Hahaha! That has to be Jin. Jin totally lost his shit!” Patroka grins like a crocodile when they spot Lora sprinting for the escalators only a couple minutes later, her distinctively red ponytail flying behind her. “Hey, Nia, cover for me. I wanna go watch.”

“No fair, I wanna watch too!”

“Fine, fine… hey, Akhos! Cover for me and Nia. We’re taking a break.”

“Excuse me?! We have customers! Do you not see the roaming queue! My hands are full enough as is, and might I remind you two of the _ethical code_ we must abide by as employees of—“

They don’t stick around any longer to continue listening to Akhos’s indignant pontificating. Nia jogs alongside Patroka and they take the escalator two steps at a time, arriving at Indol Gold Crown Stationary just in time to witness Lora hauling Jin over her back in a _very impressive_ fireman carry while Haze anxiously flits around them. Oh, that's incredible.

Amalthus is sitting in the middle of his wrecked store, head in hands.

“A bit too late to rubberneck,” Lora sardonically says, once she spots Nia and Patroka gawking side by side. “What a headache. If you two don’t have anything better to do, go help clean up.”

“Ohhh, I’m so fired, I’m so fired…” Haze wails, dragging her feet to join Amalthus on the floor. Jin is completely limp and motionless as Lora carries him away.

Patroka and Nia mutually agree to go back the way they came. But then they see Akhos glaring daggers at them, and take a sharp turn left to the food court instead.

**Temperantia Appliances**

No one knows why this part of the mall is still occupied by Temperantia Home Appliances and Electronics. Everyone knows they’ve gone out of business because they failed to adapt to a new age of online shopping, clinging to the old ways of paper catalogues. Yet they continue to post signs for wanted hires all around the empty rows between stainless steel refrigerators and rumbling washing machines, in desolate aisles of barbecue equipment for the suburban dad and toolboxes destined to gather dust in the back of some clustered garage shelf. They continue to advertise special seasonal sales, always well-stocked with the latest air conditioning units and eclectic outdoor furniture sets.

It's strange. The place is a ghost town, yet they continue to occupy this side of the mall through the seasons, a reassuring constant which suggests that perhaps not all behemoths would fall victim to the cruelties of capitalism. Rumors of money laundering typically make the rounds, but Temperantia's stubborn survival remains a mystery to all.

Brighid kind of hates walking through Temperantia, but it’s the fastest way to get to the parking lot, so.

“Ah. Dahlia was _flirting_ ,” Mòrag suddenly says, as if she’d only just come to the realization. “With both of us, it would seem.”

Which, yes. It's true. Dahlia was blatantly flirting with them both at the same time. Brighid resists the urge to grab Mòrag by the chin, partly because she infuriates her and partly because she absolutely adores her and wants to kiss her to make her shut up.

Instead, she simply squeezes Mòrag's hand.

“Excellent observations, Mòrag.”

“—Hey hey hey!”

Both of them nearly crash into the small woman that had just stepped out in front of them from nowhere. Oh, it’s just Pandoria. She spreads her arms wide, as if she’s expecting a hug. Of course, neither Mòrag nor Brighid cue in.

“Guys…! You came to pay lil’ ol’ me a visit?! It’s been _years_ since I’ve talked to another human being! Oh man, you wouldn’t believe how boring it is this place. _Unreal._ No, wait, if you’re not here to visit… you’re here to buy a fridge?! Please tell me you’re browsing for fridges! Wait wait, where’re you going? Come back! Noooo, it’s so lonely heeeere, I hate my joooooob—“

“Just keep walking, Mòrag. Don’t look back,” Brighid mutters, twice as determined to get out of Temperantia now. “Remember, we have a lunch reservation.”

**Indol Gold Crown Stationary**

As majestic as a child galloping along on a toy pony, Zeke rolls up on his segway, imitating siren noises with his mouth.

“Never fear, mall security is here! The Zekenator shall deliver swift justice to— hey, did I miss out on all the action? Who am I supposed to deliver swift, righteous justice upon now!? Huh…? What’re you shouting for? Don’t get mad at me! This damn mall is near impossible to navigate!”


End file.
